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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29600100">Little Valkyrie</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/katfett/pseuds/katfett'>katfett</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Vikings (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Brotherly Love, Drama, F/M, Hvitserk - Freeform, Love Triangle, Romance, Smut, Time Travel, ivar - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:14:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,051</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29600100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/katfett/pseuds/katfett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She wasn’t meant to be here, she was on holiday in England and the next thing she knew she was in the middle of a war. Nora needs to survive if she ever hopes of finding her way home, but she wasn’t prepared to run into the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok. She wasn't prepared for the adventure and trials coming her way.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hvitserk (Vikings)/Original Female Character(s), Ivar (Vikings)/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Because everyone loves a good time travel, right? This was originally meant to be solely Ivar x OC but as I wrote the outline, it morphed into something more and so it is a love triangle kinda deal. I have no freaking clue how this will end as I only know the beginning and middle, the end has two alternatives. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>CHAPTER ONE</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It was like being hung over after an extreme bender, and then some; her head felt like it was splitting in two. She rolled into a foetal position, clutching at her right arm as a dull ache ran up it. The wet ground was cool beneath her cheek. What the fuck had happened? Her eyes fluttered open with a groan. It was dark around her. Okay, so that could be good or bad. It’d been night when she’d passed out.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Nora slowly dragged herself to her knees, she heaved as the pounding in her skull got worse. She was so confused. Had she been thrown from the car? She couldn’t see it through the black of the night. She heard a shout from nearby and in her fog addled state, she though that it was Liam calling out for her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m over here!” she called out, her voice breaking. She grabbed at the tree beside her, trying to pull herself to her feet. Shouts came from around her and a light came into her blurry vision. For a second, Nora thought she was dreaming as she looked at the men who had come upon her. They wore the strangest clothing; their lights weren’t from torches she was used to. No, they held wood logs light at the top.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They were shouting at her in a strange language.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I can’t understand you,” she said back hoarsely. Something cold pressed into her throat then and Nora realised that one had pulled something from his waist and levelled it at her. Nora was terrified, but she didn’t have a chance to ask for help as the pain in her head and the ache in her arm overwhelmed her and she passed out.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When she came to, Nora was no longer outdoors. The room was small, and foreign; it wasn’t a hospital. The splitting pain in her skull had dulled, and her arm tingled a little but nothing like she had first experienced. Where the fuck could she be? The door creaked open and Nora glanced at the old man who came through it. He was wearing what looked like heavy robes. Scared, unsure and confused, Nora crawled back off the bed she was on, hitting the ground awkwardly before she was curling up into the furthest corner from the stranger.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He turned, frowning as he saw the empty bed before he glanced around and spied her, huddled in the corner. His frown disappeared and he slowly nodded at her, speaking to her in that strange language again.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Nora shook her head, staring at him like he was crazy. Did he not speak English? “I already told them I don’t understand.” She coughed, her throat raw and scratchy.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>That frown deepened his worn features again and he stepped towards the bed, not her. He set down a small tray. Nora watched him, unsure of what he was up to. He didn’t speak as he shuffled about, ignoring her presence entirely. She was a little grateful for his ignoring of her. Nora was still uncertain of where she was, and how she ended up here. She felt just a touch mad.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The silence was broken by the old man sighing. Glancing up at him, Nora found him easing himself into a chair by the bed. His smile wasn’t cruel with an outstretched hand; unspeaking as he watched her patiently. Nora wanted to ask who he was, why he was being nice but how could she? What language was he even speaking?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Dirty and battered, tired and sore, Nora slowly uncurled herself the corner. His eyes fell over her clothes and she saw the confusion; then his cheeks turned rosy. She glanced down at herself; what was wrong with what she was wearing? Beyond being caked in mud and dirt?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Her boots were practical for the hiking they’d been doing after breaking camp; her black jeans were not optimal for their day out but were her favourite pair. She’d tugged on a vest over her t-shirt and then her jacket to protect herself from the cold. All pretty normal clothes considering they’d been camping.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Nora took a hesitant step toward him, gesturing towards the bed with her hand. Would he understand sign language? Nora doubted it given her luck lately.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He nodded at her gesturing, motioning with his own hand to the bed. She unzipped her vest and jacket as she settled onto the bed. He was quiet as he watched her settle into place. An awkward silence followed. Nora absentmindedly began fiddling, picking at the tear in her jeans on her thigh.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A calloused, worn hand covered her own and she jumped a little, startled. He patted her hand gently, then took her bad arm. He looked at her, asking permission. She thought of her family doctor when she looked at him; the way he patiently coaxed her along even with the language barrier.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Nora let him help her out of jacket, wincing at the sharp pull in her arm. Glancing down she saw the tear in her shirt sleeve, and the blood. The pain, the dull ache in her arm had been from a cut, she just hadn’t noticed it when she’d been out in the dark. Nora had seen worse but judging by the rudimentary tools on the tray he’d carried in, she wasn’t going to get stellar medical treatment.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He cut the sleeve of her shirt away, spending a moment to finger the material before tossing it onto the tray. He was speaking in his language, maybe muttering, Nora couldn’t work it out. She only hissed when he started dabbing and wiping at the cut. It wasn’t deep, thankfully, and it meant she wouldn’t need stitches. The bandaging would suffice.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The door opened as they were finishing up, the old man helping her back into her jacket and she smiled her thanks to him. The man who appeared was hard. It was the only way Nora could use to describe him. He barked something out and the older man responded, stepping away from her and nodding to the younger man.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He turned and barked at someone out the door. Two men appeared, and they were dressed like guards? Nora assumed that’s what they were, they reminded her of guards out of historical movies she used to watch with Myles.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They advanced on her. Surprised, she reached for the old man, trying to climb from the bed. His look was apologetic as he stepped out of her reach and she was seized by the two men roughly. They tore at her bad arm and she cried out. The old man said something and the one holding her arm eased his grip.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Small mercies. Why had they bothered tending to her if they just intended to hurt her all over again?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She was dragged, struggling through the halls. It was dark still; torches were lining the walls and she whimpered as they led her somewhere. Where, she didn’t know, but she needed to try and remain calm. Panicking wasn’t going to get her anywhere.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aethelwulf didn’t know what to make of the woman. When they’d heard the strange language rolling off her tongue out in the forest, he thought she was a heathen, but it was not Norse she spoke.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He should’ve just let his men run her through and be done with her. Her clothing, her language was all foreign to him. He thought her a witch, a sorceress. He didn’t trust her. His father, however, didn’t share his reservations of the woman.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He didn’t need this on top of the news of the Sons of Ragnar carving their path south towards Wessex after the massacre in Northumbria. They’d be here in less than three days and his father had abandoned all reason since Ragnar’s death some months ago. It was more evident now the Great Heathen Army had finally arrived, as all of England had been holding its breath for.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Now Ecbert had made him king, he would set things in order. The woman would be thrown in a cell and burned at the stake as they finished evacuating the people, left as a warning to the heathens she may or may not have belonged to.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Finding her with Osgyth, he’d ordered his men to seize her. They didn’t need a witch on the loose in such an unsteady time. She didn’t scream except for when his guard grabbed her injured arm, or so Osgyth said.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Throwing her into the cell, Aethelwulf watched her hit the ground with a grunt and then she was locked in. She didn’t move, she kept her back to him, and he tapped the bars to try and get her attention. They knew nothing of the language she spoke, but it mattered not. She’d be dead before long.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Three days in a cell without food, and little water, had Nora half crazed. The old man had been her only visitor, to give her what little he could. He didn’t speak, he just gave her the provisions and then left. She couldn’t sleep. Her mind had been in overdrive with what was going on. Nora had spent what time she could peering out the window to look at the world outside her cell.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It was strange to watch the medieval world she was stuck in. She knew it wasn’t a movie set, knew she had somehow been thrown back in time, and she still felt a little mad over the notion. How had it happened? Why had it happened?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>On that third day though, the village was alive early and chaotic. People were packing their things, were they evacuating? The man who had locked her in here was wandering around, shouting, and trying to force people to move quickly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Was something happening?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Then came the quiet. Nora didn’t know if she was grateful, they’d been in such a hurry that they’d forgotten about her or desperate for them to kill her so she wouldn’t die rotting in this cage half crazy. Claustrophobia was a bitch.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She sat against the wall for what felt like hours when she finally heard it, the shouts. She’d dozed off sitting up, and the sounds roused her. Climbing onto the pallet, she tried to peer out of her bars. Her eyes widened as she took in the men crowding into the yard. These weren’t the villagers she’d been watching the past few days. No, these were large, heavily armed men. Vikings? The first thought of it sounded so ludicrous but that’s the image they evoked. Were they the reason her captors had fled so fast and abandoned their home?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>For the first time in days, Nora spoke, “Fuck. Out of the fucking frying pan and into the fire.” Nora turned and dropped down to the pallet; her luck was absolutely shit. There was no way these men weren’t going to tear through this place inch by inch. She’d paid enough attention in school to know what Vikings were had done throughout England. Seeing them, it all clicked into place. She was still in England, just when was the question. The Vikings raided for decades.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She sat, cross-legged and waited for them to find her; it was coming whether she liked it or not. She could only deal with things as they came. No use letting panic get to her and her panicking. It was going to be a definite that she wouldn’t understand them, just like she hadn’t understood her captors.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The shouts grew closer, she could hear them breaking and destroying things as they went. The door crashed open and Nora jumped a little. She scrambled to her feet, bracing herself for the stares coming her way. She had seen the way the Englishmen had looked at her, confused and perhaps a little fearful. How these men would react though, that was going to be a whole other kettle of fish.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The hulking men decked in armour and furs, weapons drawn, barrelled into the outer part of the prison room. The one in the lead looked around, his eyes landing on her. He was intimidating only for the fact he had tattoos down both sides of his face. He grunted something out to her, and Nora shook her head, raising her hands in a sign of surrender.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Don’t know what you’re saying,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. His brow furrowed and he glanced at the men behind her who were staring at her, as confused as their leader was.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He spoke again and this time she just dropped her hands, looking at him blankly. After a moment, he turned to his man again and said something. The large man stepped forward and inspected the lock on her cage. Nora was smart enough to know they weren’t breaking her out to give her freedom, no this was exchanging one cage for another. The difference was, she would be free to fight back, not behind bars.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The lock shattered and clattered to the ground. The man stepped aside to let his leader into the cell with her. The axe in his hand was the only warning he could really give her that she understood. She wasn’t stupid; they could and would kill her if they felt so inclined.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He free hand outstretched for her to take. Unlike the old man who had tended to her days before this, Nora didn’t feel safe. No, she felt like a caged animal who needed out. He spoke, his gruff voice low and quiet, his hand extending to her again. Behind him, the men watched.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“If you think I’m going to just run along with you, you’re an idiot,” she said, her voice cracking as her frustration mounted. He growled and went to reach out for her jacket front. In panic, Nora retaliated by smacking his hand away and throwing a fist. She winced as her fist connected with his cheek. It fucking hurt, his head was like a rock.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Silence settled over the room. The man looked surprised, then his features morphed into a scowl as the men behind him broke out into laughter. She understood that they likely thought it was hilarious someone nearly three heads shorter than their leader managed to hit him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He lunged at her, grabbing roughly at her jacket and began to drag her out of the cell. Nora fought him the whole way, scratching and hitting him. She should’ve been grateful for the jail break, but she was petrified of what these men had in store for her. As they crossed the threshold of the cell, Nora tried to grab hold of the bars to stop him from pulling her along, but it was useless. He outmatched her in strength. He punched her in the stomach. She grunted; the wind knocked out of her. Nora couldn’t fight as he ducked down and threw her over his shoulder. She hit his back with her fists, not stopping as his hand landed on her ass. Nora growled as his fingers squeezed her flesh.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He carried her out through the laughing men and Nora shouted back, cursing at them. The light was stinging to her eyes as he stepped out into the daylight. He must have had enough of her assault on his back as he dumped her unceremoniously onto the ground in the middle of a crowd – of men. He was speaking to them, his attention diverted, and it let Nora place a well-deserved boot to his stomach. He was knocked back into the men and stared at her as she climbed to her feet, panting, and glaring at him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He jerked his head to someone behind her, saying something and Nora growled at him as he took a step toward her. She lifted her fists, rolling her shoulder to try and loosen the stiffness from where it had been hurt in the accident.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She wasn’t going down without a fight, whatever they had in store for her, she would fight them every step of the way.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The sons of Ragnar stood in the throne room; Ecbert hung in a cage above them. They were speaking amongst themselves when a warrior, breathless, came running into the throne room. He looked at each of the sons, ignoring the English king.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What?” Bjorn asked, half turned to face him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The guard jerked his head back towards the way he’d come as he spoke, “Harald needs you in the yard.” The brothers looked between one another, confused. Frowning, Bjorn pressed for why. “We found a woman in a cell.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They’d thought only the king and the priest had been left behind.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“A woman?” Ubbe inquired, looking at Ecbert above him. The king shifted to look at the guard, they knew he understood fragments of their language, he’d admitted to it. “Why was she in a cell?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Ecbert regarded Ubbe for a moment. “My son, Aethelwulf, believed she is dangerous. She doesn’t speak our language; she dresses in the strangest of garb.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“And you intended to do what with her?” Ivar asked, watching the old king with a calculating expression.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“My son intended to burn her,” Ecbert said. “We purify with fire.”</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for all the love on the first chapter! I hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>Nora swung at the man. He ducked her punch, not swinging back as he ended up behind her. He wasn’t trying to hurt her; he seemed as entertained over her attempt to fight as his men were. As he chuckled, talking to the men around them in that strange language, Nora turned and shot forward, kicking the inside of his knee. He went down; the laughter died around them. Nora was breathing shakily, exhausted and trying hard not to collapse. She was running on pure steam, a combination of the adrenaline and panic in her system.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She grunted as he lunged at her; he’d tossed his axe to another, not bringing it into the fight. Small condolences she’d thought bitterly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He pinned her arms to her side. Struggling against the vice like grip on her, she stepped on his foot, and buried her elbow into his gut. He growled, turning her to face him as he wrenched her arms behind her back. She growled back, throwing her head forward as he grinned down at her. The sickening crunch of bone crushing should’ve made her wince, but she’d broken a few noses over the years and suffered one once. Blood gushed from his nose. Nora wasn’t finished. She brought her knee up and focused as he was on his now bloodied, hopefully broken nose, he didn’t have a chance to stop her. The impact had all the blood draining from his face. He released her as he fell to his knees.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She could feel the collective wince from the men in the circle around them and it would’ve been comical, but this was serious. This was life and death to her. She had no idea what they planned but she’d even television to hazard a guess. Her nose was bleeding from the head butt, she could feel the throb of pain spread.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Nora glanced at the men around them; surprised, she found them watching her. The man with the facial tattoos was watching her through watery eyes. He’d be lucky if he could walk straight after that. She stepped to him and swung a left hook at him. His head was like a fucking rock, but she knocked him to the ground. He sprawled out on the ground, groaning. She stood there, panting. Her hand ached and her fingers shook. She didn’t know if she could do that again.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She startled as someone grabbed her from behind by her jacket. Twisting sharply, she came face to face with a giant of a man. His hair was shaved to the scalp at the sides, the top pulled back. His blue eyes were fierce, intense as they stared down at her. She tried to tug herself free, but his grip was solid. She clawed and tugged at his arm, fighting like a little hellcat against him. He barked something out over her head, ignoring her. Nora tried with all her might to break away from him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He was too strong. She didn’t expect the butt of the axe swinging into the side of her head. She went down in a heap, out cold.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The laughing and cheering had drawn the attention of Bjorn and his brothers. Those who stood in the circle parted for the sons as they approached. The scene before them was, interesting, to say the least. A young woman swung her fist into Harald’s face as he knelt on the ground. He went sprawling across the dirt hard. Still conscious though in a world of pain from the bloody nose and way he was clutching his groin were any indication.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Bjorn smirked, glancing around to his younger brothers. Ubbe was grinning, Hvitserk and Sigurd’s brows were furrowed, and Ivar was by Ubbe’s feet watching the scene with that passive expression on his face. The sight of Harald being knocked onto his back by a woman half his size was entertaining.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He needed to get them focused, they should be securing this place not watching Harald be beaten to a pulp by a damn woman.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>As the woman stood before them, her back to him, Bjorn took the opportunity to advance and grab at her clothing, strange as it was. He held firm as she twisted round on him, clawing, and tugging at him. Unlike Harald, Bjorn could withstand the small woman’s assault. She barely came to his chest.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Get back to work!” he barked at the crowd. Slowly, they began to disperse. He took the butt of his axe and swung it at the side of her head, knocking her out. She crumpled against him and he caught her, picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder. Ecbert hadn’t been lying, the woman was strange. Her pants were a strange fabric he’d not come across before; here or in the Mediterranean.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Come,” he said as he turned to his brothers, pushing past them. He stopped halfway, looking over to where Halfdan stood nearby. “Halfdan, get him up.” Bjorn jerked his head in the direction of Harald. Halfdan nodded, stepping towards his older brother.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Bjorn stepped into the hall, looking for somewhere to put her. He dropped the woman unceremoniously down near a pillar. “Find something to tie her up with, make sure her hands are bound.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sigurd disappeared back out the doors as Bjorn turned towards Ecbert in the cage. He was looking at the young woman, his face unreadable. Sigurd returned, tossing the rope he’d found at Ubbe who knelt and worked quick to bind the woman’s hands, tying her upright to the pillar Bjorn had dumped her against.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Strange, is she not?” Ecbert pondered out loud.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Bjorn glanced at the woman. She was. He’d not seen clothing like that, ever. He’d also not seen an Englishwoman put up such a show of force in all the weeks they’d been here. Many cowered and cried as they were claimed or killed, some tried to bribe or beg their way out of what was to come. This woman had stood toe to toe with Harald. Ivar had reclaimed his seat nearby as Sigurd and Hvitserk watched Ubbe.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Bjorn had no idea what to do with the woman.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Nora came to with another headache. It radiated from her nose and across her temple. She remembered the blonde man who’d cracked her over the head with his axe and she let out a weak groan. She brought her hand up to probe at the side only she couldn’t. Opening her eyes, she looked down.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Fuck,” she muttered. For a moment she stared at her hands which were bound at the wrist, not believing it, but what was worse was the fact she was pinned in an upright position against a pillar, rope tied about her torso. Growling, she twisted, hoping it gave way. She wasn’t that lucky.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Her head jerked up as she heard a voice; she still didn’t understand any of what was said. Glancing round, she saw the blonde who’d knocked her out. He wasn’t alone. The dying light outside indicated just how long she’d been unconscious as her dark eyes took in the four other men with the blonde. They were scattered about the room they occupied. They were, for the most part, dressed like the man she’d fought though they all looked younger.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Let me go!” she snapped; her voice rougher than usual. She hadn’t had a drink in some time, her throat was sore and scratchy, the old man had been evacuated with the rest of the people who’d lived here. Her brother had been a LARPer when they’d been teenagers, she still had a shield hanging on her wall back home from when she’d join in a few times. This was wholly different; these men were flesh and blood Vikings. They weren’t playing, there were no rules here. She was facing life and death right now. They stared back at her. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Stumped, Nora glowered at the blonde who’d hit her. He looked arrogant. Another blonde, his hairstyle somewhat like the firsts had his arms folded across a massive chest as he grinned at her. She didn’t understand what he found so amusing about all this.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A third blonde; his hair shoulder-length and curly was scattered with braids. His face was sweeter, softer than the first two which felt strange to think considering he was armed with a brutal axe like the others.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The fourth was not as fair, his dirty blonde hair was pulled back into braids and he was grinning from where he sat leaning against the side of a chair. As she pulled her gaze away to the fifth who sat in said chair, Nora felt a silver of fear creep into her. He was spinning a knife in his hand as he watched her, his bright blue eyes cold.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He glanced away first, and Nora didn’t glance away as he spoke. His voice was softer than she expected of a man with such a presence. The blonde below him chuckled, the one who’d knocked her out shook his head. She desperately wished she knew what they were saying. How was she going to get herself out of this when she couldn’t even talk to them?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Angry at the situation, she swore again, jerking at the restraints. She wanted out. She couldn’t stay here, she needed to find a way home. The whizz of air and sudden thud by her head startled her. Nora’s eyes jerked from the knife buried in the pillar by her head to the dark haired man. It was close.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You missed,” she spat out, glaring.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>There was a flash of confusion in those intensely blue eyes and then a smile spread across his face. Nora felt the breath be knocked out of her at the sight. He was dirty and covered in grime, but she had to admit, he was breathtaking as he smiled. She’d felt half mad before this, but as the thought crossed her mind, she admitted to herself she was crazy to even consider it when she was tied to a pillar and their prisoner. He chuckled, turning his gaze back to the others who stood nearby.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The larger one, the first blonde, stepped toward her and Nora tensed up, not trusting him. She watched him, wary as he closed the distance between them in only a few strides. He crouched down in front of her, his head titled to the side as he watched her. His broad shoulders blocked out her view of the others.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He spoke again, and Nora rolled her eyes, speaking over him. “I can’t understand you, why do you keep bothering?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His hand shot out, curling around her throat. She winced as his fingers tightened on her, the warning real as he glared at her. He spoke again, the foreign language was different again, sharper. His eyes searched her face as she stared back at him, unmoving as his fingers on her throat reminded her of what he might do to her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>As though realising she genuinely had no idea what he was saying, his grip uncurled from her neck, and she released the breath she’d been containing.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He reached out and yanked the knife free from by her head. He held it between them, studying it for a moment before he looked back at her face. Nora held her hands up, smiling in what she hoped was a sweet way. “Please?” she asked, even though he couldn’t understand her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He reached out and sliced through the rope holding her to the pillar, but not her hands. As soon as it fell from around her, Nora tried to make a break for it. She’d barely gotten to her feet when the bastard tripped her up. She yelped as she hit the ground, hard. Nora groaned, rolling onto her back. He was laughing at her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Nora glowered as she lifted her head to look at him. She was not in the mood. Her boot shot out and she tried to kick at his knee. He shifted, avoiding the kick. Nora scrambled backwards, backing herself into a corner.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Bjorn glanced at his brothers, watching as the woman backed herself into the corner. Her language was foreign, they’d never come across it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What do we do with her?” Sigurd asked.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The woman looked wild, exhausted but still willing to put up a fight. Bjorn glanced round to his young brothers.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I don’t know.” He pushed himself to his feet, folding his arms over his chest as he stared down at her. It was the truth, he didn’t know how to talk to her, he didn’t know what to do with her. The English had wanted to kill her as a warning to them, thinking she belonged to them. He could see why they might have thought it, at first. Ecbert was no longer present, Bjorn had used the time while she was unconscious to deal with the man. It’d taken a little to convince Ivar to agree to the terms, but he had. “She can’t understand us, nor we her.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“She’s not Saxon, and even with the way she fights like she has the blood of Tyr in her, she isn’t one of us,” Ubbe commented. They tried Saxon, they’d tried their native tongue, heck he’d even tried some of the words he’d picked up in the Mediterranean. Nothing. Bjorn sighed heavily and turned back to his brothers. He strode to Ivar, handing him back his knife.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Until we know who, or what, she is, we need to keep her under guard.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“We could put her in the cage,” Ivar suggested, eyeing the cage that had held King Ecbert mere hours ago. His cold gaze lowered to the woman huddled in the corner, watching them, and he smirked. “Though I think getting her in it might present a challenge.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Ubbe chuckled, nodding as he scratched the back of his neck. “We could knock her out. Let her save that wild energy for something more useful.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sigurd and Hvitserk both laughed at their elder brother’s words, knowing what he inferred.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Ivar rolled his eyes at them before he moved and hopped down from his chair. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Nora watched the men as they spoke. They stood between her and the way out. When the dark haired one looked at the cage sitting on the platform, cold dread ran down her spine. Was that for her? Fuck, how would she escape if she ended up in that thing?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His gaze fell to her and Nora felt uneasy as cold eyes met dark ones. She watched, wide-eyed as he lifted himself down from the chair. He didn’t stand, instead he dragged himself toward her. Stunned, Nora didn’t move. He was crippled. His legs were strapped together, she’d been so intent on their faces, she’d not really noticed the way his legs were bound.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He stopped a few feet away. She didn’t know what to make of this development. He’d thrown a knife at her only moments ago and she wagered he’d do it again if he felt like it. He shifted to sit, pulling his legs around to rest between them. Nora’s eyes took in the crude braces and straps holding his legs together. She frowned, wondering what condition he had that had crippled his ability to walk. Had he been born with it? How had he survived such a life with it? Somewhat fascinated, Nora let her gaze slowly roam across his thighs, up his torso and back to his face.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She couldn’t work out what he was thinking; his face was passive. Nora didn’t shy away though from those cold eyes though. Silence settled between them. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>After a moment, he smiled at her. It wasn’t like the first one she’d experienced. This wasn’t cold and her heart beat a little faster in her chest. He was even more handsome closer and face on. Yeah, she was certainly mad.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He lifted a hand to his chest as he spoke: “Ivar.” He said it slowly, repeating himself twice more. Ivar? Was that – was that his name? Nora looked over his shoulder at the other men. The blonde who had been sitting by the chair was now perched on it, and that’s as far as anyone had moved. Their eyes were intent on Nora and Ivar. She looked back at him, licking her lips as she struggled to whisper his name back. She slowly nodded, indicating she understood him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>That smile spread further across his face, and he then pointed at her. Did Nora give them her full name? Would it be of any use here? They couldn’t use her as a hostage for her family; she had no idea who where ancestors were in this time.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The young man, Ivar, was patient, simply watching her as she slowly uncurled herself from the corner. Pointing to herself, she managed to find her voice and say her name. Slow and careful with the way she pronounced it. “Nora.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He repeated her name out loud, slowly sounding it out. It was thick with his heavy accent, but he managed to say it well enough.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He then motioned to behind him, a little more eagerly than she expected. Her eyes went to the one who’d tried to strangle her. “Bjorn.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Nora glowered. Jackass was more like it. She repeated his name, showing she understood. The second blonde was Ubbe; the third was Sigurd. Nora rested her head on her knees as she watched his hand move to the fifth man, the one who was not yet introduced. Hvitserk.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She butchered it. Her Australian drawl doing her no favors. The man in question grinned, showing off a cheeky expression as he said something to Ivar, who rolled his eyes. Nora couldn’t contain her smile at the dramatic way he did.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She tried the name again. It wasn’t as bad the third time she tried.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You should let me part those pretty thighs, she’d learn my name quick enough,” Hvitserk said, grinning at the young woman, Nora. He didn’t need to see Ivar’s reaction, the woman’s slight smile told him Ivar had rolled his eyes in his usual dramatic fashion.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Well, she understood that,” Bjorn grunted.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Now, they had a name, Nora. Strange as it was, Ivar was curious about her language, of where she was from, her accent was different, and where she got her clothes from. Most of all, he was curious as to her lack of horror seeing his legs. It was rare for people to not be taken aback by his crawling, the braces, and crude straps on him. Her initial surprise had subsided quickly, giving way to a frown and he had kept his face passive. Her frown hadn’t been scorn, more confusion as though she was trying to piece something together as she looked at him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Enough for now,” Bjorn said, stepping forward. Ivar immediately picked up on the way the woman tensed. He didn’t stop his brother though. She needed securing, if not to avoid her escape, then at least to keep the men off her. She was pretty enough, if his brothers reactions were any indication. Most of the men wouldn’t hesitate to take a turn on her if they were given the opportunity. Harald would no doubt be fuming he had been stripped of the pleasure of punishing her for humiliating him like she had.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Nora climbed to her feet as Bjorn came closer. She wasn’t restrained now. Her hands were bound, sure, but she wasn’t entirely defenseless. When he got in reach, Nora lashed out, kicking him in the thigh. She’d aimed too low but from the rough grunt he let out as he stumbled back a step, it had the desire effect to catch him off guard.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His eyes were wide as he stared at her. She glowered back. “Do not touch me again.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She wouldn’t miss her next target. He growled and then lunged at her faster than she was anticipating. Nora barely managed to duck beneath his arms and slip out of his way, darting behind him and putting the pillar she’d been tied to between them. Her eyes went to the cage. “You are not putting me in that thing.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She forgot in the need to put space between herself and Bjorn, that the other three men still occupied the room, and she’d backed herself right into them. Bjorn advanced on her and she stumbled back into the hands of Ubbe and Sigurd. They each caught on one her arms, and holding fast, they managed to drag her towards the metal contraption. Hvitserk must’ve opened it and was standing wide of the door.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Ubbe ended up with a nasty bite on his hand courtesy of Nora. Sigurd had a handful of hair pulled out as Ubbe had released her arm when she’d sunk her teeth into his skin. He’d caught her in time to stop her from tearing Sigurd’s head off. With a harsh shove she was forced into the cage and the door slammed behind her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Panic, white hot, crept through her. She didn’t like small, spaces, even though this thing was barred, she was cramped, cornered and caged. She kicked at the bars and shouted at them to let her out. They hefted her up into the air and secured the rope. Eventually, they left her. Alone and caged.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Nora spent the next several hours kicking the bars and yelling until her throat was destroyed, her voice barely a hoarse whisper, and her leg hurting due to the impact on the cage bars.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It was only when exhaustion set back in, and she couldn’t fight it anymore, that Nora’s kicked and screaming quietened.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. CHAPTER THREE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I managed to get another chapter ready so here you all go! I hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>
  <b>CHAPTER THREE</b>
</p><p>When Harald finally regained full consciousness some hours later, without a splitting headache, he seethed. Halfdan had given him a rundown of what had happened in between, which only angered him more. Seeking out the sons of Ragnar, Harald found them sitting around a table talking amongst themselves quietly. They stopped as he approached.</p><p>His face was quite the sight; purple and blue bruises had started to appear across his nose and below his left eye. He looked a mess in the dull light of the torches around the place. “Where is she?”</p><p>“Locked up,” Bjorn answered, leaning back in his chair between Ubbe and Sigurd. “Where she should’ve been left in the first place.”</p><p>“You’ll give her to me.”</p><p>Bjorn’s eyes went to Ivar as the youngest brother chuckled. “Why?”</p><p>“Clearly, you couldn’t handle one small woman,” Hvitserk said as Harald followed Bjorn’s gaze. He wanted to sneer at the two brothers who sat side by side. Ivar and Hvitserk were smirking at the older man, unafraid of his reaction to their goading. “She might kill you next time, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”</p><p>The older man wanted to growl, to shout, but the tenderness of his face prevented it as the smallest of movement hurt.</p><p>“I can handle the woman fine, but this,” he said, gesturing to his face, “Doesn’t go unanswered.”</p><p>Ubbe folded his arms across his chest, leaning back. “Must sting.”</p><p>Halfdan stood quietly behind his older brother, watching the scene unfold but not interjecting.</p><p>“I think it’s an improvement,” Ivar remarked, turning to his brothers like Harald wasn’t there.</p><p>“As do I.” Hvitserk was chuckling as Ubbe and Sigurd nodded their agreement.</p><p>Harald’s fists curled, clenching as he restrained himself from grabbing the youngest son by the scruff of his neck and throwing him to the floor. He leaned against the table in front of Bjorn, staring down the eldest son. “Bjorn give me the woman. I found her.”</p><p>Bjorn’s passive expression didn’t change as he motioned with a hand to Ivar. “She’s not mine to hand over.”</p><p>In the middle of negotiating with Ecbert, Bjorn had been at an impasse as to how to convince Ivar to agree to the man’s conditions. He’d approached his little brother expecting to be met with a great challenge. When he’d told Ivar that all of them had agreed to Ecbert’s deal but him, Bjorn had held his breathe. Ivar was stubborn, and selfish on the best of days.</p><p>“If you want me to agree, you have to give me something.” Ivar had said. Bjorn had asked him what it was he wanted, expecting the worse. “The woman.” It had surprised Bjorn, that was for sure. His little brother wasn’t the type of man to deal with many women beyond thralls and his mother. Margrethe had done something to him, what, he didn’t know but the venom Ivar spat about his brother’s wife led him to believe it had to do with sex. Bjorn didn’t know what he planned for the woman; he didn’t really care if he was honest. It meant he wouldn’t have to work out what to do with her.</p><p>Bjorn was grateful he wouldn’t have to argue with Ivar over this. He’d told Ivar the woman was his and then clapped his little brother on the shoulder before walking off to find Halfdan.</p><p>Harald’s gaze once again landed on the youngest Ragnarsson. “What would you want with her?”</p><p>A heavy silence: tense and uncomfortable settled over the sons of Ragnar as they looked to their little brother. They were privy to what Margrethe had told them of her encounter with Ivar, aside from Bjorn, Sigurd had tormented his little brother over it in Kattegat, but they hadn’t spoken of it to others. Had Margrethe told others?</p><p>Ivar’s jaw clenched; the only indication Harald’s words had gotten to him. “That’s my concern, not yours.”</p><p>The words held a finality to them as he and Harald stared at one another. Ivar refused to look away.</p><p>“You wouldn’t know what to do with her,” Harald growled, leaning closer to Ivar.</p><p>Ivar’s mouth twitched a little, and everyone watched as his hand went to the axe resting on the tabletop. Hvitserk stood then, leaning over the table. He didn’t hold the same contempt for his little brother that Sigurd did on occasion, and he knew if Harald kept goading, it would result in the man’s death when Ivar finally snapped. They didn’t need Ivar in a foul mood, and they didn’t need Harald dead.</p><p>“Walk away,” Hvitserk said.</p><p>Harald looked at Hvitserk, assessing the warning and then grinned. “Very well.”</p><p>He smirked at the youngest Ragnarsson who was watching him, his fingers still white knuckled on the axe. Turning, he walked away. Halfdan nodded to them before turning to follow his older brother.</p><p>***</p><p>Nora woke with a groan. It was still dark; the torches in the room she was hanging above had been extinguished and it was cold. She was grateful she still had her jacket and layers on. She’d been dreaming of everything that had happened, thinking she would now wake up and be in a hospital bed somewhere waking from a coma, or some such. It didn’t happen. She was still in the cage, still hanging above the ground. She shifted a little and winced; her back was going to hate her in the morning.</p><p>Pulling her arm back through the bar, she braced herself against them and turned a little. As she did, she saw the pale face watching her from below and froze. The one called Ivar sat in the chair watching her. How long had he been lurking there?</p><p>He hadn’t helped her when the others had put her in here. He wasn’t an ally. Glaring at him, she rolled away, presenting him her back as she curled back up. She heard him chuckle below.</p><p>She didn’t trust him; he might have taken the time to give her their names and learn hers, but she was still his prisoner. He wasn’t stupid; those eyes were cold, cunning but intelligent. Nora wasn’t going to fall for it, and she was hoping he’d take the hint and leave her alone.</p><p>He spoke.</p><p>Nora didn’t care what he said, she just wanted to be left alone. Daylight would be a better opportunity to see what she could do about getting out of here. The door of the room creaked. Glancing over her shoulder Nora could make out a single figure. She tensed as the man with the facial tattoos who she’d fought stalked forward. She rolled awkwardly and tried to press herself towards the top of the cage, unsure of what he might do.</p><p>Her gaze dropped to where Ivar sat, the glint of metal in his fingers as he watched the man approach.</p><p>***</p><p>Ivar watched her as she slept. He didn’t know why he’d come back here in the middle of the night; just to watch her sleep. One of her arms was hanging out of the cage between two bars, as she slept curled awkwardly on her belly. She was filthy; her hair was matted, and she had scraps and bruises across her face and hands. He was quiet as he watched her. It perplexed him. When Harald had walked away, his brothers had gone quiet and not really spoken to him. Angry over the slight, Ivar had left their company, not wanting to be reminded of his time with Margrethe. She’d told Sigurd of his failure, and by Harald’s words, she’d told others. He’d promised to kill her if she ever did; now, she was married to his brother, he couldn’t touch her without angering Ubbe.</p><p>A soft groan above him told Ivar the sleeping woman was waking up. Nora. He glanced up, leaning back in the chair as she shifted, and his gaze met hers. She glared down at him, not intimidated in the least. She gave him her back and Ivar chuckled a little; she was stubborn, good.</p><p>“You snore when you sleep,” he commented, knowing she couldn’t understand him but teasing her all the same. Her back stiffened but she didn’t turn back to him. She huffed above him and he grinned, spinning the knife in his hand effortlessly.</p><p>The creak alerted him to someone approaching and he turned his head to see Harald stalking toward him. Grinning, Ivar tightened his grip on the knife in his hand. “Get out.”</p><p>“You and I need to talk.” Harald knew better than to put himself in Ivar’s range and so he skirted around the youngest Ragnarsson, his attention going to the woman awake in the cage. He spat in the direction of the cage.</p><p>“We don’t,” Ivar replied, cleaning a fingernail with the knife in his hand.</p><p>“I found the woman, that makes her mine.” Ivar’s gaze went to where Nora was half crouched in the cage, her eyes on Harald. She looked terrified.</p><p>Ivar sighed. “You want her? It’ll cost you your land, your men, everything.”</p><p>Harald glowered at him, wincing as pain radiated along his features. She’d done that to him. Ivar was impressed by the damage she’d inflicted on the man; it was no easy feat. Ivar remembered Vik; Harald had murdered the man in broad daylight. It had been sloppy and fueled by an old wound reopened by a woman. He had no interest in seeing the woman above them murdered because he felt slighted.</p><p>“I could kill you, boy.”</p><p>Ivar sneered at the older man, insulted by the term boy. “I named my terms, Harald, if you don’t want to pay, you don’t want her enough.” Ivar knew Harald would never hand any of what he demanded over.</p><p>The man dropped his hand to the axe at his waist. His eyes went from Nora in the cage, to Ivar and back again. He growled, spitting in Ivar’s direction after a moment before he left. Ivar grinned as he watched the warlord stalk out. He’d been anticipating the man’s arrival; knew he’d not keep his distance. The man was too easy to predict.</p><p>***</p><p>Nora let out the breath she’d been holding throughout the interaction. What had they spoken about? Her? She didn’t want to consider what might have transpired between the two men. The moment the tattooed man’s hand dropped to the axe, Nora tensed, expecting the worst. She was surprised when he spat at the young man before storming out.</p><p>Her wide eyes went to Ivar. He was looking right at her. She slowly sunk back down to the bottom of the cage, crossing her legs, never once taking her eyes off the young man. Had he helped her?</p><p>After a moment, he nodded at her before climbing from the chair and crawling away.</p><p>“Ivar,” she said as he reached the doorway. He paused, glancing at her from over his shoulder. “Thank you.” He couldn’t understand what she said but he seemed to catch on. He didn’t say anything as he turned back and left her.</p><p>A guard appeared after a moment, sticking his head in to check that she was there. Thirsty, her stomach grumbling for something, Nora tried to go back to sleep. Tomorrow was a new day, tomorrow she might be free.</p><p>***</p><p>Halfdan and Bjorn were leaving, returning to the Mediterranean. The next morning, those who were going with him, packed what they’d need. Their discussion in the morning at breakfast was a deciding factor, the army needed to move back north. They couldn’t remain in Wessex surrounded, Ivar’s suggestion that they return to the stronghold of York and capture it was agreed upon, even if Sigurd disliked agreeing with his little brother, he saw the sound reasoning behind it.</p><p>York was close to the coast; it would allow them to raid deep into England without any northern interference. Northumbria was kingless, they posed no real threat for the time being.</p><p>“How is your little woman, brother?” Ubbe asked, joining Ivar as he watched Floki and Helga fix Fenrir’s harness and that into place and hitch him to the chariot.</p><p>Ivar had yet to go see Nora. For the time being, she was safest caged and until he was ready, she would remain there. “Caged.”</p><p>Ubbe chuckled, nudging his shoulder where they sat side by side. “What made you really ask Bjorn for her?”</p><p>Ivar grimaced at his brother’s probing. Ubbe might be passionate and lead with his heart at times, but he was keen eyed when it came to his brothers. Ivar still didn’t know exactly why he asked Bjorn for the woman. Curiosity was his main reason; she knew nothing of the common languages, but she’d somehow been found here in England, and she was dressed so differently. Her accent was strange.</p><p>“Curiosity, as to who she is.” It would be the only answer he would give any of them.</p><p>Ubbe hummed, nodding which was usually a sign he didn’t believe what he was hearing, but he didn’t argue with Ivar about it. He knew better, especially so early in the morning.</p><p>***</p><p>Nora really had to use the bathroom. It was the first thing that woke her up that morning. She was groggy and thirsty but the pressing need to pee, was insane. She lay there, trying to find a comfortable, albeit cramped, position that didn’t press on her bladder. The door opened and in strode Hvitserk, the one whose name she’d butchered so spectacularly the night before. He stopped beneath the cage, reaching up and gripping the bars as he grinned at her. Nora didn’t know what to make of the cheerful young man below her, he was handsome as he grinned up at her, but she was so desperate to pee she just scowled back at him.</p><p>“I really need the bathroom,” she said, knowing he couldn’t understand her. She squeezed her legs together hoping he might pick up on what she meant. The slight tilt of his head and frown told her he didn’t.</p><p>The door opened again. This time, all the men from last night entered, along with a jittery older man and a blonde woman. Hvitserk turned to them, his fingers still curled in the bars by her feet. Smirking, Nora pushed her boot onto his fingers earning a sharp hiss as he retracted his fingers. Payback for not getting her out so she could use the bathroom. He shook his fingers as he frowned up at her. Nora simply smiled back at him.</p><p>Ivar spoke with the jittery man from where he was on the ground, gesturing to her so often. She watched as the one named Ubbe walked over to where the rope holding the cage suspended was tied. A little hopeful, she saw him watching her. He gestured to the bite on his hand. It looked nasty and she grimaced. She only felt a little bad for biting him. Hvitserk moved to help him, and they slowly lowered her cage to the ground. Nora didn’t move as the jittery man bounded forward, a little wary of him as he approached. The woman with him smiled at her.</p><p>She looked for Ivar’s face. He was watching her quietly as the older man started to undo the lock on the cage. He nodded at her. “Floki. Helga.” He gave her their names. She slowly nodded.</p><p>Floki and Helga. As Floki pulled the cage door open, Nora resisted the urge to bolt through it and try to escape. There were just too many people in here, she wasn’t suicidal. They were letting her out, which was a start. The blonde woman, Helga, crouched by the open door and held her hand out to her. The pressing issue of Nora needing to pee made her compliant. She would behave if it meant she could use the bathroom. How to get that across though, given her failure with Hvitserk.</p><p>She uncurled herself and stepped out of the cage. She stood, a little awkward due to the situation and the stiffness in her back and legs from the cramped position she’d been stuck in. The woman smiled at her, holding her hands out to her, not as surprised or curious about her as she expected given the reactions people had to her so far. Maybe Ivar had spoken to them?</p><p>Her eyes sought him out as the woman took hold of her arms and pulled her in. It was strange to feel comforted by the way the woman gently coaxed her closer. Ivar was sitting on the chair, speaking quietly with Floki and Ubbe. Bjorn was missing, she noted.</p><p>Ivar glanced her way, as though sensing she was looking. He nodded after a moment, reading the silent question in her eyes. The woman said something and then started to guide Nora away. She thought for a moment she could use this to escape but as they left, Hvitserk trailed behind them as well as a large man with shockingly white hair. Ivar wasn’t stupid.</p><p>Helga was a kind woman; she didn’t push or shove as she showed Nora into what she assumed was a bathroom. It was a little awkward to have the woman with her, but she really needed to go. As she unzipped and started to shimmy her jeans down her hips, Helga turned her back. Well, at least she was afforded that little bit of privacy.</p><p>Hvitserk and the large guard were standing outside when she and Helga finally reappeared. Hvitserk spoke to Helga, though he was looking at Nora. The cheerful expression was gone, and Nora found herself a little intimidated by the serious expression on his face. He wasn’t a large man, size wise, but he was taller than her.</p><p>He jerked his head in the direction they hadn’t come from and with the guard on them, they made their way down the hall. Walking out into the open was, blinding. Nora had spent so much time inside the past few days, the daylight was harsh on her unadjusted eyes. People around them were moving, packing things down, and Nora wondered why they were leaving when they had taken the place so easily. Was this a stop on the way to another place?</p><p>Helga directed her to a chariot with a young horse hitched to it. The creature snorted as they approached and Nora smiled at it, reaching out as they moved past to brush her hand along its cheek. It whinnied softly at her and she grinned. Hvitserk stopped by the back of the chariot and turned to face her. He grinned at her as he held up rope and a piece of cloth. What?</p><p>Nora froze, stopping Helga from pulling her forward near the front of the chariot. Hvitserk spoke to someone over her head and two large arms seized her. She growled and tried to fight as Helga stepped away, looking apologetic. They’d planned this right in front of her and her inability to understand meant she’d let them lull her into a false sense of freedom. Hvitserk stepped forward and bound her hands in front of her. She tried to fight, drawing the attention of those around them as she swore at Hvitserk.</p><p>He held up the strip of fabric once she was bound and tried to gag her with it. She tried to bite his hand, but it did little ground as the grip on her tightened and she tried to turn and hit the bastard holding her captive.</p><p>Hvitserk wrapped the fabric over her head, surprising her and effectively gagging her. It was bad enough she was hungry and thirsty. They wouldn’t understand sign language in this time, would they? She tried to think back to when she was younger and taught it. She was out of practice, so she’d probably end up confusing her gestures anyway.</p><p>Once she was gagged, Hvitserk grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to the back of the chariot. He shoved her down into it. Looking up at him, Nora mumbled curses through the gag at him. He grinned at her, nodding before leaning against the side of the chariot, guarding her as they waited for whoever rode this to show up. </p><p>Nora should’ve put two and two together. She should’ve realized that Ivar would be the owner of the chariot. His head appeared around the edge of the chariot after a while and Nora huffed, huddled into the front of the chariot, knees drawn up. She refused to acknowledge him, turning her eyes away.</p><p>He didn’t acknowledge her either as he pulled himself up into the chariot with a practiced ease. Nora could see him out of the corner of vision, but she didn’t tense, didn’t give any indication she was put off by him so close to her in what little space they had.</p><p>He dragged himself up onto the seat, taking the reins. It brought his thigh close to her head as he adjusted his legs beside her. This time, she did look up. He was glancing down at her, those cold blue eyes unreadable as they stared at one another. After a moment, he nodded at her and she turned her eyes to what was going on outside the back of the chariot. Where were they going?</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. CHAPTER FOUR</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So um, here it is. I’m a little uncertain about this but I’m hoping it holds up to the previous three chapters as it is beginning to get into the trek to York, which I’m stretching out as land travel with a marching army, ain’t happening overnight so we got a nice trek across England coming :) I hope you enjoy!</p><p>All mistakes are my own! I’ve edited, but likely missed a lot as it is nearly 2am here and I have work in 4 hours but I refused to stop writing haha</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <b>CHAPTER FOUR</b>
</p><p>The chariot ride was uncomfortable; it felt every little bump and dip. Her back ached something fierce. She was grateful to not have to walk, given her lack of food or water over the last few days, but it was hard to find a positive beyond that. Nora could feel the start of a dehydration headache creeping in, making the trek ten times worse as the sun hurt her eyes. She tried to sleep the ride out, a near impossible task she was beginning to think.</p><p>Leaning her head against the wall of the chariot, ignoring Ivar’s presence, Nora wondered where they were heading. She hadn’t been the best history student, she’d eagerly sit through any movie about it like <em>300</em> or <em>Braveheart </em>and so on, even though they weren’t accurate, it was awesome to watch.</p><p>Probably should’ve paid more attention she thought drolly to herself. Then she’d be able to work out who these Vikings were, the rough year, and where she might be. This wasn’t how her holiday to England was meant to have gone. It was going to be hard to find her way back to where she’d arrived. There wasn’t a possibility it’d even be her way back. There had to be a reason she came here, right?</p><p>Though, it was going to be difficult, her arrival spot wasn’t going to have a neon sign about it to help her out, maybe there would be something that came with her that the English had forgotten, or not found? How was she even supposed to get back?</p><p>Nora couldn’t imagine what was happening back home; had she completely disappeared? Had time stopped? Were there people out looking? Was Mike okay? How did someone even rationalize something like this? How did she even explain it to Vikings who believed in a rainbow bridge?</p><p>Her eyes flickered to where Ivar sat towering over her. He hadn’t acknowledged her since they’d set out, his attention fixed on wherever they were heading.</p><p>What did he even want? Why had he dragged her along?</p><p>Would he think her mad if she ever found the ability to communicate what and who she was?</p><p>He must’ve felt her staring because after a moment those blue eyes lowered to her, and Nora found herself unable to look away. It was hard to work out what he was thinking as he stared back at her, his head tilted a little.</p><p>Those eyes were paralyzing; she couldn’t move when they locked on her. It was haunting to see the lack of emotion in them as he stared at her.</p><p>A shout from just ahead and Ivar pulled the chariot to a halt. It rocked as the horse shifted at the sudden lack of free movement. It was the rocking of it that allowed her to look away as she swayed with the movement, bumping into his legs.</p><p>He stiffened, she saw it and her wide eyes darted back to his. She didn’t know why she did it, but she quickly mumbled out an apology. It was a useless gesture when he couldn’t fucking understand her. It had been an accident. His eyes weren’t narrowed, but he didn’t look happy.</p><p>She leaned further back into the wall of the chariot, holding her hands up in surrender, hoping he understood she didn’t do it intentionally.</p><p>She could feel the scratching of that headache permeate through the back of her neck and brow. This was going to be a long day. Reaching up, she massaged her brow with the palm of her hand. If only someone would give her a drink. She didn’t care if they didn’t feed her, but she was dying for a drink.</p><p>***</p><p>She’d been quiet most of the day. He was thankful she’d stopped struggling with them for the time being. While he’d admired her fight, it would be tiring to drag her behind the chariot the whole way to teach her to behave at the right times. Fighting Harald, he still found the sight of her knocking the man down hilarious. Of all the people, he’d expected Bjorn to do it, but then again, his older brother didn’t really see the threat Harald posed.</p><p>To have a woman have Harald’s size do the job, was glorious. Ivar preferred her sitting by his legs, so he knew where she was. Harald had decided to remain with them, he’d been planning to return to Kattegat but had opted not to. Ivar knew why, and he could feel her watching him.</p><p>Glancing down, Ivar caught her bright gaze with his. He was still trying to work out how to communicate with her. This wasn’t like when Ragnar found that damnable monk, Athelstan; who’d been able to speak their language and was able to teach him English.</p><p>They were making good time, but Ubbe’s call to stop made him pull Fenrir up. The chariot rolled back as Fenrir fought the halt a little, and Nora bumped into his leg.</p><p>He stiffened. Embarrassing rolled through him; that rare, but powerful sensation making him freeze. People didn’t touch his legs; his mother had, Harbard had when he’d been smaller, ridding him of a great deal of the pain that had made him scream for hours on end. The jostle didn’t pain him, just made him keenly aware of what his legs felt like, how they looked beneath his clothes. She would feel the lack of muscle there.</p><p>She mumbled something through her gag. He didn’t know what she’d said but when she held her hands up in a gesture of surrender, he assumed it wasn’t cruel. She looked worried; like he might hurt her. He didn’t feel that sense of pleasure he’d gotten when he threatened Margrethe. Ivar didn’t want this woman so terrified of him that she’d not interact with him.</p><p>He watched her brow furrow and then the way she massaged at her head. Was there something wrong with her? He’d had head pains before, was she suffering from one?</p><p>Hvitserk appeared along the rim of the chariot, leaning over to look down at Nora. “I’m surprised she didn’t jump from the chariot halfway out of Wessex.”</p><p>Ivar hadn’t been. She seemed intelligent enough to understand there was an army between her and escape. He watched her cringe as Hvitserk’s loud voice startled her. She looked worn out.</p><p>“When was the last time she ate? Or had a drink?” he asked, looking at his older brother over Nora’s head.</p><p>“Before we caught her?” Hvitserk said with a shrug.</p><p>Ivar nodded. She had to be near dead on her feet if she hadn’t eaten or drank in the last few days. It was quite the feat to still be conscious in his opinion. He’d seen prisoners lose their sanity after a day. She had to be feeling the effects of it.</p><p>“Can you get her into my tent? Get one of the thralls to bring food, and water as well.”</p><p>Hvitserk nodded. He stepped around to the back of the chariot and Ivar felt the way Nora leaned further back into the wall. He frowned. She looked up at him, unsure.</p><p>“I don’t think she likes you,” Ivar said, grinning at his older brother who glared back.</p><p>“What woman wouldn’t like me?” he replied. Ivar rolled his eyes. Most women did like Hvitserk, because he knew just what to say to them, because he was a son of Ragnar, a non crippled son of Ragnar. Nora refused to move towards Hvitserk, and it made Ivar smile at the stubbornness of her. Even when Hvitserk held his hand out, smiling at her, patient. Ivar watched them, watching one another. He shifted Fenrir’s reins into one hand and reached down, grabbing hold of her upper arm. She stood rigid as he let go of her arm after dragging her up the wall of the chariot.</p><p>“Go.”</p><p>He pushed her forward to Hvitserk who caught her by the arm. She didn’t struggle as Hvitserk helped her down from the chariot. Ivar glanced up in time to catch Harald nearby, watching. He then noticed most of the people near them were watching; frowning or speaking to one another as they gestured to Nora. He’d need a guard on her.</p><p>***</p><p>Hvitserk guided her to a tent nearby, his hand clutching her arm firmly. Nora was too exhausted to put up a fight right now. She didn’t want to fight him; he wasn’t hurting her. In fact, he kept her close, half shielding her, and she was a little grateful as she noticed people were staring and pointing at her. Nora knew she stood out; her clothes alone gave her away.</p><p>She was glad to be out of the light when Hvitserk pushed her through the tent flap. It was quiet, and uninhabited as Nora’s sore eyes adjusted to the low light of the tent. She took in the bed of furs, the posts holding the tent up, and the low table. This was Ivar’s tent. She turned to look at Hvitserk who was standing in the entryway, holding the flap open as he watched her.</p><p>She gestured to the gag and glowered when he grinned, shaking his head. He motioned for her to stay, like one might command a pet with their hands and it would’ve made her growl but in truth, the gestures were their only form of communication.</p><p>To show she understood, Nora stepped toward the low table and sat at it, crossing her legs under her, and leaning her still bound arms on the table so she could rest her aching head on them.</p><p>Hvitserk didn’t speak and she was a little grateful when he left her, dropping the tent flap back down. Darkness encased her and Nora rolled her shoulders, trying to find a comfortable position. She wasn’t going to consider looking for an escape, just yet. She was too tired. She needed her strength back. To get that, she needed food and water. On queue her stomach grumbled, and she frowned.</p><p>If their aim was death by starvation, they were doing a bang-up job of it. Nora stayed where she was and had nearly fallen asleep when the tent flap reopened, letting in the light from outside through.</p><p>She glanced up.</p><p>A tall man, with white hair, held the flap open as a young, dark-haired woman stepped in. A slave? She gave her the briefest of glances before she stepped to the side and Nora watched Ivar crawl through. It didn’t escape her notice the way the slave girl recoiled at his presence.</p><p>Were people that repulsed by him? Was he a monster of a warlord?</p><p>Nora didn’t bother with them; she went back to resting her head on her arms. The sound of a crackling fire soon filled the tent and she listened as they spoke quietly to one another. She heard the shuffling of feet and Nora shivered as she felt Ivar come up alongside her.</p><p>
  <a>It was him; she could tell by the way he dragged himself along the ground. How had he survived all these years with his condition? This time didn’t have the science, or the medicine hers did. What was he suffering from?</a>
</p><p>Nora startled a little as a hand scooped her hair back from where it covered her face. She looked up at Ivar. Her eyes went wide as she saw the knife in his hand. The slave girl had disappeared, as had the white-haired man. The fire lit the space, bathing them in a warm glow.</p><p>In fright, she tried to recoil but his hand twisted in her hair by her scalp, holding her still and she flinched but stayed put. Ivar’s face was passive and unreadable as he held her. Time felt like it froze as he brought the dagger up and slipped the blade beneath the cloth of her gag on her cheek. She held her breath.</p><p>With one firm pull, the dagger cut through the cloth and tight pressure eased. Nora couldn’t move, surprised and a little uncertain. Ivar set the knife down on the table and then, as though dealing with a wounded animal before him, slowly reached up and pulled the gag from her mouth.</p><p>She licked her dry, cracked lips and winced as it stung. He watched her, those eyes intent on her every little move. Oh, this wasn’t good. The tent flap opened and broke whatever hold Ivar had on her.</p><p>The slave girl reappeared and stopped in the doorway as she took them in. Nora didn’t move, but her eyes left Ivar’s face to watch hers. His fingers tightened in her hand, reminding her she was still held firm in his grip.</p><p>He glanced over his shoulder, speaking to the girl who jostled herself back into action and quickly stepped forward, setting a tray down near Ivar on the table. She hesitated to let go and Ivar snapped at her. Nora felt bad for the girl, but she also wasn’t daring to utter a word while he held her hair in a vice like grip with a knife in reach.</p><p>Even though he’d tried to communicate with her, she still didn’t fully trust him. She couldn’t. The girl left, and then they were alone again. Ivar didn’t look back at her straight away and Nora wondered what was going on in his head.</p><p>She wished he would let her hair go, give her some space.</p><p>Tentatively, Nora reached up, taking hold of his wrist. His head came back to look at her and she slowly wrapped her fingers around his brace covered wrist. She felt his fingers release her hair and as his hand slid out of her hair, she let go of his wrist.</p><p>She didn’t move as he reached for the knife, and she didn’t flinch or recoil as he reached out cut the rope around her wrists.</p><p>Rubbing her wrists, she nodded her thanks and then turned to face the table. The smell of meat reached her nose, and the heavenly scent made her empty stomach grumble, loudly. She winced and blushed, unable to face Ivar.</p><p>She wanted to reach out and take something to eat but she wasn’t sure if she was allowed.</p><p>After a moment, Ivar pushed a cup in front of her. He hadn’t moved from where he was resting, though he had moved his legs, so he was more comfortable. Glancing at him, Nora found him leaning an elbow casually against the table, his gaze on the table before them as he twirled the dagger in his hand.</p><p>Her mouth was dry, her lips parched, and she wanted whatever was in the cup before her.</p><p>He could’ve poisoned it for all she knew, and yet, she would still drink it because after three days without anything, she would take whatever was on offer.</p><p>Reaching out with both hands, she grabbed the cup and lifted it to her lips. She skulled the liquid inside. She shouldn’t have but the water tasted sweet. Nora coughed as the liquid slid down her throat and she pulled the cup away to cough into her hand. It was so good to have a taste of water.</p><p>She sighed, setting the empty cup down and wishing she could have more, but she needed to remember it could make her sick if she overdid it.</p><p>***</p><p>Ivar scooped her hair from back from where it covered her face. He knew how to do this, he just needed to get her to trust him a little. The thrall was off getting food and drink, and White Hair was ensuring no one stopped her in her mission. The fire bathed the tent, warming them as the evening air had started to grow cold outside, and the last thing he needed was to get sick.</p><p>She startled, trying to recoil but he anticipated it and twisted his fingers into her hair, hard enough to hold her still, not enough to truly hurt her. Her eyes were wide, she was frightened. He palmed the dagger. He needed her mouth free if he was going to try this.</p><p>Ivar didn’t need her to fight him. He was careful, unhurried as he lifted the dagger to her cheek, slipping the blade under the cloth. She’d stopped breathing. Ivar, had it been another woman, would’ve chuckled darkly at the sheer terror in her eyes. She wasn’t Margrethe though, and she wasn’t a thrall. No, Nora was something else, something unexpected.</p><p>He gave the cloth a firm tug and it sliced through the cloth easily. Hvitserk had gagged her after Ubbe had shown them the deep gouges on his hand from her teeth yesterday but Ivar trusted she was smart enough to know not to dig those teeth into him.</p><p>He was quiet as he set the dagger down before reaching up to pull the torn cloth away. His eyes dropped to her lips when her tongue darted out to lick those dry, parched lips and he didn’t fail to see her wince. He’d felt a similar sting was time ago, when the English had ferried him back to Kattegat after Ragnar’s deal.</p><p>The tent flap opened. The thrall stopped in the entryway, annoyed that she couldn’t just hurry on and leave, Ivar tightened his fingers in her hand as he watched Nora’s eyes jump to the thrall.</p><p>He glanced over his shoulder as he spoke, “Set it down, and go, quickly.”</p><p>His tone left no room for tardiness, but he also disliked the girl’s presence. She recoiled at the mere sight of him, and if he could, he’d gouged her eyes out for the venom he saw lingering whenever she looked at him.</p><p>He watched her set the tray down, her eyes going to Nora and she hesitated. She was lucky she moved before he could bark at her again. The thrall retreated, leaving them alone again.</p><p>Fingers brushed against his wrist, and he looked back at her. Her bound hands were slowly wrapping around his wrist. She was quick to understand that communication was better with slow gestures that gave them time to work out what the other was saying. He would remedy that, sooner rather than later.</p><p>He eased his grip on her hair, letting his hand slide from it as she let go of his wrist. She surprised him, a little, by not moving away. He picked his knife back up and freed her hands.</p><p>Nora nodded her thanks and then faced away from him.</p><p>It was quiet for a moment, peaceful even, he thought and then her stomach grumbled. He saw the red flame her cheeks and smirked. She didn’t reach for the food and water though.</p><p>Ivar made himself more comfortable before he grabbed one of the cups and slid it across to her. It was just water. He didn’t want to ply her with mead. He needed her to be able to talk with him.</p><p>She scooped up the cup and down the water, quicker than he expected.</p><p>He was quiet as he watched her. The English wrote to communicate, he didn’t expect her to be able to read runes, and he wouldn’t be able to understand her writing.</p><p>He reached out and took the cup from in front of her.</p><p>Small he thought.</p><p>He nudged her arm with the empty cup, and grinned when she looked at him, confusion evident. He held the cup up, and like he was speaking to a small child, trying to teach them to speak, he spoke.</p><p>“Cup.”</p><p>He motioned to it with the knife in his hand. Quiet settled between them. He repeated the word. It must’ve dawned on her what he was doing as she twisted to face him, her legs curled under her as she leaned forward a little, her eyes eager. He shook the cup a little, and pointed the knife at her, waiting.</p><p>She gave him the most perplexed look but then she tried to repeat the word, in his language. It was rather rough, and it took every bit of him not to sigh at the way she butchered a simple word with that strange accent of hers.</p><p>Then, she surprised him. She reached out and plucked the empty cup from him. Holding it in the palm of her hand, she pointed at it and spoke.</p><p>The smug look on her face made the corner of his mouth curve up in a smirk. He fought the urge, just. Rolling his eyes, he nodded, gesturing with his knife to the cup again. She repeated the word in her language.</p><p>***</p><p>Ivar was intelligent, frighteningly so. When he’d reached out to take the cup, Nora had half hoped he would refill it. Instead, he nudged her with it, like a toddler trying to get her attention. She looked at him, brow furrowed, and tired. She really did want to sleep once she was hydrated and her belly reasonably full.</p><p>He held the cup up, gesturing to it as he spoke one word. What? She was so confused. He repeated the word, still gesturing to the cup.</p><p>Wait.</p><p>Was he – Was he trying to teach what word meant cup in his language? The idea of sleep suddenly vanished. If she learned how to speak basic words in his language, she could ask for things, she would be able to learn more about this place, where they were going.</p><p>Twisting to face him fully, Nora leaned forward, wanting to try. Hang Yoda’s suggestion that there was no try, the little green frog didn’t get transported back in time and taken prisoner by Vikings.</p><p>Ivar shook the cup a little and then pointed the knife at her. It was quiet, and for a moment she tried to remember how he had pronounced it. She tried to replicate it, though by the look on his face her accent was butchering the simple word.</p><p>Two can play this game.</p><p>She reached out and took the cup from him, setting it in the palm of her hand and holding it up, pointing to it.</p><p>“Cup.”</p><p>Let’s see you do it, Mr. Smug she thought, internally chuckling. She saw the corner of his mouth twitch and she felt her heartbeat quicken at the way he rolled his eyes at her, nodding. He gestured to the cup with his knife. Repeat.</p><p>She did as he hinted and said the word again. Just as her accent butchered cup in his language, his butchered hers. Nora giggled; she couldn’t help it. She watched him purse his lips and held a hand up as a means of apology. It wasn’t at him, just at how bad their respective accents made this.</p><p>He turned and made her flinch when he skewered a piece of meat with his knife. He turned back and held it up. Nora’s stomach growled. The smirk that came to his face made her audibly growl as he pulled it away when she went to reach for it.</p><p>Apparently, he could play this better than her.</p><p>Once she sat back, waiting, he held the meat back between them. He said a new word. Did this mean meat? He said it slowly the second time. Nora knew what he was doing. If she didn’t pronounce it right, he wasn’t going to give her the meat. Pursing her lips, Nora leaned her elbows on her knees and then her head in her hands as she ran through the word in her mind. She could do this; she would do this.</p><p>“Meat.” She said the word slowly, carefully. Hoping her damn accent didn’t lose her brownie points this time. He looked at her past the meat and she narrowed her eyes at him, holding her hand out and making a give it over gesture.</p><p>Nora felt her pulse quicken and her cheeks warm as Ivar smiled at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Oh boy, he was handsome up close when he smiled like that. He tipped the point of the knife to her and let her take the meat off it.</p><p>Carefully, she chewed on it. It was pork, she gathered. It wasn’t chicken, that was for sure. It was good, whatever it was. She held her last bite up, rubbing her mouth on the back of her sleeve.</p><p>“Meat.”</p><p>This time she said it in his language, and then hers. He turned and grabbed another piece, holding it out to her. She didn’t even care that he’d grabbed it with his fingers, she devoured the last bit she held and then reached out to take the new piece.</p><p>As she took it, she repeated the word in her language. He was watching her, his eyes taking her in, and she was struggling to work out why he was staring at her like he was.</p><p>The tent flap opened.</p><p>Nora jerked out of her daze, and whatever was going on, to look at their visitor.</p><p>Hvitserk stepped in, his gaze searching the tent before landing on the two of them at the table. He grinned, and Nora didn’t miss the way Ivar rolled his eyes as he looked back at her. She covered her mouth with both hands to hide her smile at the lack of utter contempt Ivar seemed to have for their lesson, or whatever being interrupted.</p><p>***</p><p>“Enjoying yourself in here?” Hvitserk asked as he approached, not waiting for Ivar to offer for him to join them.</p><p>He plopped himself down on the opposite side of the table to them, grabbing the second cup and a piece of meat. Ivar slammed the knife he was holding down into the tabletop, stopping Hvitserk and making Nora jump.</p><p>“Who said you were invited in?” Ivar looked at Hvitserk, clearly not happy. Realizing that, Hvitserk smirked and ignored his little brother to look at the woman among them.</p><p>“You took off the gag,” he said, and his eyes fell to her wrists, “and her bindings. Was that wise?”</p><p>Ivar looked back to Nora who was watching them both, still sitting beside him. He jerked his head to Hvitserk. “Fool.”</p><p>Hvitserk glared at him.</p><p>Nora spoke, trying to repeat the word, she didn’t quite get it. Hvitserk glanced at her, eyes widening. She then held up the cup, and proudly butchered it again. Ivar rolled his eyes, though he was grinning at the absolute confusion on Hvitserk’s face. Nora surprised Ivar though as she moved, getting up onto her knees and leaning across the table alongside of him to reach for a piece of meat. He let her, his eyes following her intently as she came close to him.</p><p>Most people kept a healthy distance from him. Nora froze, seeming to realize what she had done. She blushed bright red, and as quickly as she’d moved, she sat back, a piece of meat in her hand. Ivar didn’t know how to respond as she held the meat up to Hvitserk.</p><p>“Meat.”</p><p>He had to grin. She got that one perfect. He looked at Hvitserk, and his grin faltered as he realized his older brother was watching Nora before his gaze moved to Ivar.</p><p>“Why are you teaching her our language?” he asked. Ivar rolled his eyes, and leaned forward, taking the cup from Nora’s hand. He held it up and said the word for it in Nora’s language. He smirked at the way Hvitserk’s eyes bulged. “Why?”</p><p>“Why not? We need to communicate with her,” Ivar said, with a shrug as he refilled the cup from the larger pitcher and slid it back towards Nora without glancing at her. He could see from the corner of his eye as she took it. “I want to know who she is, where she comes from, where she got those clothes.”</p><p>Hvitserk slowly nodded. “And you’re learning her language, why?”</p><p>Ivar grinned. “So, she won’t be able to plan anything behind our backs.”</p><p>***</p><p>Nora didn’t know what they were saying, but least it gave her a chance to watch how they interacted. She wondered if they were related to one another. They had similar features here, and there, and their smiles had that same upturn at the corner of their mouths.</p><p>Who was the older brother?</p><p>When Ivar took the cup off her, and refilled it, after shocking their newest addition by saying the word for it in her language, he surprised her by sliding it back to her. She was silently thankful for the kind gesture, though she was careful to sip this time.</p><p>After finishing off her food, and water, Nora struggled to fight the yawn that came on. She covered her mouth, looking sheepish. Both men looked at her. They spoke to one another before Hvitserk sighed, clearly not happy but he climbed to his feet and stepped around the table towards the furs. Wait, this was Ivar’s tent, wasn’t it?</p><p>She watched as Hvitserk picked up a few of the furs and dropped them unceremoniously near the fire. Nora glanced at Ivar when Hvitserk spoke to him. He looked at her and jerked his head in Hvitserk’s direction.</p><p>She climbed to her feet, a little stiffly and made her way towards Hvitserk. He didn’t move as she stepped around him to the furs. She glanced up at him. He was so tall. She smiled a little awkwardly and nodded her thanks. He nodded, and then moved away, back to the table.</p><p>Nora unzipped her jacket, shrugging out of it. Her vest followed, she collapsed down onto the furs and unlaced her boots, tugging them off, her socks following. She tucked them into her boots which set beside her jacket and vest. Grabbing one of the furs, she dragged it over legs and glanced across at Ivar and Hvitserk.</p><p>She paused.</p><p>They were staring at her.</p><p>Fisting handfuls of the fur, she waved a little awkwardly before shuffling to curl up on her side under the fur, facing the fire. She wasn’t going to wish them goodnight. It didn’t take long for Nora to fall asleep, exhausted, finally not so starving or thirsty.</p><p> </p>
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